


Peek-A-Boo

by JoMouse



Series: Full Moon Ficlets [32]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curse Breaking, Curses, De-Aged Derek Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Don't copy to another site, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Magic, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Star Wars References, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles and John come home from a two-day search for Derek to find him...sort of...in Stiles' room.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Full Moon Ficlets [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652395
Comments: 38
Kudos: 554
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #402: Child, Sterek Ship (haljoy26)





	Peek-A-Boo

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and Salutations!
> 
> As soon as I saw this week's theme for [FullMoonFiclet](HTTP://fullmoonficlet.tumblr.com), I knew it was definitely not going to be a ficlet. I finished late last night and my super-duper absolutely amazing beta [Marie](HTTP://quietzap.tumblr.com) beta'd it in the less than five hours I was sleeping. Thank you so much, my friend.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles and his father dragged through the front door of the house. Both of them collapsed onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Two days of searching for a missing Derek Hale had taken its toll on Stiles and he couldn’t imagine how his father was feeling considering he’d worked two shifts in between searching. Forty-eight hours without sleep for both men was going to be tough to recover from, but they knew that they needed sleep or they wouldn’t be able to keep searching.

“This isn’t normal, is it?” The Sheriff asked for the umpteenth time since Derek had disappeared.

“Let’s just say that the last time this happened, we found a sixteen-year-old version in Mexico,” Stiles said with a chuckle. “Ah, high school, those were the days.” 

His dad shook his head with a chuckle, the both of them freezing when something sounded from the upper level. It was a quiet thud followed by a whimper. Exchanging looks, his father rose to go to his gun safe while Stiles picked up his bat from where he’d laid it before sitting down and headed for the stairs. He should probably wait for his dad, but something was familiar about the whimper.

Moving into the doorway of his room, his eyes widened at the mess there. He knew he wasn’t the neatest person in the world but what he was faced with was a disaster that was even beyond his own imagining, especially since he’d spent a day cleaning it before they’d gotten word that Derek had gone missing. 

The center of the mess seemed to be his laundry basket and as he drew closer, bat at the ready over his shoulder, a whimper sounded from inside the basket beneath the sweatshirt he had worn for his run with Derek the morning before his disappearance. He heard his father behind him and waved a hand to keep him back, as the sweatshirt began to move and a set of eyes appeared beneath it, glowing gold in the shadow.

“Did you bring home a stray?” John asked, moving closer. 

“I’ve been with you for two days, when would I have had time?” Stiles asked, moving closer as the eyes blinked at him. “Besides, I wouldn’t have left a werewolf unattended. Especially one small enough to fit in a laundry basket.” 

The ‘wolf snuffled in the basket and whimpered again, the sweatshirt falling over the eyes again. “Hey,” Stiles said, speaking softly and handing the bat back to his father. 

“Stiles…” His father’s tone was sharp and the tiniest growl sounded from the basket and Stiles had to fight the urge to coo.

Reaching out, he lifted the edge of the sweatshirt until he could see the golden eyes again. “Peek-a-boo,” he said, grinning when the ‘wolf giggled and tugged the sweatshirt back over his head. 

His father moved next to him and reached for the sweatshirt and lifted it a bit more than Stiles had to reveal a small child of about four or five years old with a shock of black hair and glowing golden eyes that faded to a familiar swirl of greens that stole Stiles’ breath. “Peek-a-boo,” he said, grinning and revealing a few missing teeth.

“Son, do we know those eyes?” his father asked, startled when the ‘wolf pulled the sweatshirt back down over his head.

Instead of answering, he reached for his phone and dialed Scott’s number. “Dude, we found Derek.”

It took almost an hour of Peek-a-boo with the Sheriff before Derek got bored and climbed out of the basket and Stiles had to hold back a laugh at him standing lost in the maroon henley that Derek had been wearing the night he’d disappeared. His bare feet were sticking out from underneath the hem and he had his fingers wrapped in the thumbholes of the sleeves. Stiles figured when he shrank he lost his jeans and had a moment to wonder what Derek was wearing underneath the henley.

When he climbed out, he stood for a moment and Stiles fully expected him to climb into his dad’s lap since he was right there and they’d bonded over peek-a-boo, but instead he walked across the room and stood next to Stiles where he was bent over his laptop, searching the bestiary and other texts for experiences with such extreme deaging. His eyes watched Stiles until he turned to him with raised eyebrows.

“What’s up, Little Dude?” he asked, grinning at the way even at such a young age, Derek’s eyebrows growled at him. Instead of answering, Derek leaned against Stiles and sniffed before sighing. “Do I stink?”

“Smell like pack,” Derek said, the first thing other than ‘peek-a-boo’ that he’d said since they’d discovered him. 

“Well, there’s more pack coming, so you’ll have all sorts of pack smells to-” He cut off when Derek started to growl, turning his back on Stiles and looking between John and the door with a frown before moving again so that he was between the door and both Stilinski men.

A moment later, they heard the front door of the house open, and Scott calling out for them before he bounded up the stairs. The closer he got, the louder Derek’s growls became and Stiles was surprised that he hadn’t shifted but then remembered Derek telling him once that he couldn’t do more than his eyes until he was around ten years old; his sister Laura had teased him for being a late bloomer.

Scott skidded to a halt and barely managed to catch Derek as he leaped at him, clawing and biting with human nails and teeth. He didn’t stop growling the entire time and they all watched in shock while Scott tried to push him away and struggled despite his full-grown Alpha strength. Finally, when Scott huffed out a ‘help,’ Stiles jumped out of the chair and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, the fight going out of him immediately as he turned to curl against him with a whimper, holding his arm up to his chest.

“Did the big bad Alpha hurt you?” Stiles asked, knowing that if Derek had any memory of this when he changed back he was likely to get his ass kicked, but the pouty nod he got from Derek would be worth it. He only wished he could grab his phone quickly enough to take a photo.

Scott huffed and John held up a hand to stop him. “Scott, this is the most we’ve gotten out of him.”

Stiles held Derek on his knee while he cleaned the blood off his nearly healed arm. It would take a little bit longer because of Scott’s Alpha status. “Hey, Little Dude-”

“Not Dude. Derek,” he said, holding his arm up to Stiles’ face. “Kiss better.” Stiles’ eyes widened but after exchanging bewildered looks with his dad and Scott, he pressed his lips gently just above the scratch.

“All better, Derek,” he told him and the boy nodded and leaned into his chest, watching Scott warily. “Do you know how you ended up in my room?”

“Was in the woods and followed scent,” he said. “Strongest there.” He pointed to Stiles’ hoodie. John picked it up and Derek made grabby hands, so he handed it over and Derek hid his face in it.

“No more peek-a-boo,” Stiles said, pulling the sweatshirt away from his face but not trying to take it away from him, afraid he’d tear it if he did. “Why were you in the woods?”

Derek scrunched his nose and eyebrows in an adorable rendition of Derek’s thinking face. “Not sure. Not small.”

“Well, you are pretty small,” Stiles said, fighting the urge to pinch his cheeks, liking his fingers still attached to his hands.

“Not here,” Derek said, pointing to his head. “Just here.” He gestured to his body and slapped a hand to his mouth, glaring at it as if it had acted on its own behalf. “Owie.”

Stiles glared when Scott snorted a laugh. Reaching for his computer, he pulled it to the edge of his desk. “Do you know who you are?” Derek rolled his eyes and nodded. “Do you know who he is?” He pointed at John.

“Your dad,” he said. “Smells like pack, too. A little.” Stiles pointed to Scott. “Smelly Alpha. Not my Alpha.”

“God, he’s even a dick as a child,” Scott muttered and Derek stuck his tongue out at him and then glared at his hands and slapped them down on his legs. “Shit, I think he wanted to flip me off.”

Derek was grumbling against Stiles’ neck where he’d buried his face. Scott looked offended and Stiles wondered what he was saying. Rubbing a hand over his back, Stiles pressed his nose into Derek’s hair. “Do you remember what you were doing in the woods?”

“No,” Derek said, huffing. 

“Do you think you could show me where in the woods that you were?” Stiles asked. 

“We go hike?” Derek asked, pulling back and grinning at Stiles who found himself nodding. “He no go.” He pointed at Scott.

“Can my dad go?” Derek nodded and Scott threw his hands in the air and stormed out of the room, telling Stiles to call him when Derek grew the hell up.

“Jerkhead,” Derek muttered and scowled so Stiles could only imagine what he’d actually wanted to call Scott. “Stupid mouth.” He slapped a hand at his mouth and growled.

“So, I’m guessing that Derek is still the adult Derek inside his head but everything he tries to say comes out in toddler speak?” Derek nodded. “Out of curiosity, how old are you, Derek?”

“This many,” he said holding up four fingers and then shaking out his hand and glaring at John who pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. Derek opened his mouth again but whatever he had to say was lost around a yawn. 

“Looks like it's someone's bedtime,” Stiles said, rubbing at Derek’s back and exchanging a look with John when Derek growled and yawned again. “Maybe we should all get some sleep before we venture into the woods. I mean, we found Derek...um, sort of.”

He stood up and carried Derek to his bed and laid him down, reaching for the black stuffed wolf that Derek had given him as a gag gift for his last birthday. He knew Derek would be able to tell that he slept with the soft plush by the intensity of his smell in the fur but he thought it might comfort him in his small form. As he pulled back, Derek locked his fingers in Stiles’ shirt and held on.

“Dude, Derek,” he corrected himself at the growl. “You sleep here and I’m going to crash on the couch for a couple of hours.” Derek shook his head and tugged, yanking Stiles down onto the bed and then crawled on top of him, burying his face in Stiles’ neck. “Or not.”

John chuckled as he grabbed Stiles’ laptop and moved it next to him on the bed. “I’m guessing you won’t be able to sleep right away, so maybe stream something.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he said, already reaching over and logging into the Disney+ account that he shared with Scott. He debated turning on something for kids, but decided that he’d continue his second rewatch of the Mandalorian; he knew Derek was as big a  _ Star Wars _ fan as he was so he should enjoy it. Plus, since he’d already seen it, if he fell asleep it wouldn’t be a big loss.

He tried to make himself comfortable as Derek wriggled for a moment. He thought the ‘wolf was asleep until he mumbled, “Like me.”

“What’s like you?” Stiles asked, looking down and seeing Derek’s eyes locked on the screen and his thumb in his mouth. 

“Yoda. He got small. Small, he got.”

Stiles chuckled and then went on to explain the idea of prequels, relieved when Derek rolled his eyes and fell asleep, little puffs of air hitting Stiles in the neck. As a precaution, he reached up and pulled Derek’s thumb out of his mouth, wondering how much of this he would remember when they got him back to normal. If they got him back to normal.

He frowned, thinking about the night before Derek had disappeared. There had been a pack night at the newly rebuilt Hale house. Stiles had stayed behind to help clean up like he always did. He was also trying to soothe Derek’s anger at something thoughtless Scott had said but that was going as well as it always did. Derek had mentioned going traveling again just to clear his head and Stiles had frowned and made a comment about not letting the door hit him on the way out.

They’d argued until it had come to a head and Stiles had practically screamed at him that he was a selfish bastard for running away again. The look they’d shared was scathing and Stiles could feel his heart breaking as Derek shook his head and walked out the door, the sound of the slam echoing through the house. It took everything in him to stop from running after him and begging him to come back. Instead, he’d grabbed his things and headed home, ignoring Derek’s SUV still parked in the driveway.

It had taken less than a day for them to know something was wrong. Stiles had left some notes for his Introduction to Polish Folklore course at the Hale House and when he’d gone to get them, he’d noted Derek’s vehicle and the absence of the man himself. Thinking it odd, he tried to call him and heard the ringtone sounding from outside the house. Following the sound, he found Derek’s phone and the bag he’d had over his shoulder just inside the treeline beyond the house. There was no blood but there were also no clothes on the ground like Derek had fully-shifted and taken off into the woods. 

He’d called his dad and then Scott, starting the search for the missing pack member. The entire time they’d been looking, all Stiles could think was that if he’d just swallowed his pride and chased after Derek, then he wouldn’t have been taken and turned into a child. As he looked down at the sleeping boy snuggled into his chest, he appreciated how cute he was but he missed the handsome man he was too afraid to tell he’d fallen in love with him.

Pressing one more kiss to the top of Derek’s head, Stiles closed his eyes and drifted off to the soft sound of Derek’s snuffling snores. He hoped they would find answers in the morning.

Stiles woke up to being poked repeatedly in the cheek by a whining Derek. Sighing, he opened his eyes and looked at the little boy who had tears in his eyes and a frown on his face. His brain went from groggy with sleep to high alert. “What happened?” He sat up, keeping Derek on his lap and started checking him over for injuries, maybe whatever had been done to him had fatal consequences. 

“Hungry,” he said and pointed to the door of the room which was closed and Stiles looked from Derek to the door, realizing he was too short to open the door. 

“How did you get in here yesterday?” he asked, standing up and putting Derek on his hip as he made his way out of the room and downstairs where his father was sitting on the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and the morning paper.

“Window. Fell twice,” Derek said before making grabby hands at John who chuckled and took him, settling him on his knee and trying to keep the mug out of his reach. “Coffee!” Derek demanded and John shook his head, laughing.

“It’ll stunt your growth,” Stiles said automatically, something his parents used to say to him all the time when he was small and wanted to drink the same thing as the grownups. He imagined his own pout rivaled the one on Derek’s face at that moment. “You can have milk. I can add some chocolate to it, if you like.”

“Syrup,” Derek said.

“Pancakes?” Stiles asked.

“In Milk,” he countered, seemingly giving up on getting the coffee from John and moving into his own chair and looking expectantly at Stiles. “And pancakes.” John cleared his throat and gave Derek a pointed look. “Please.” A satisfied fatherly nod from John was the response and Stiles stared in awe at how easily his father was taking to child-sized Derek and he wondered what would happen when Derek was no longer fun-sized. 

They ate breakfast quickly, Stiles trying Derek’s milk at his insistence and deciding that maple-syrup flavored milk was the only way to drink milk from now on, earning a big smile from Derek. When they were done, they cleaned up, Derek insisting on standing on a chair to help wash the dishes.

“When Stiles was your size,” his father started, earning an interested look from Derek and a glare from Stiles, “he begged his mom to let him help wash dishes one night. So, we put him in an apron and stood him on a chair, just like you are. As soon as he got started, he began bitc-complaining. ‘Why do I have to do all the work around here?’ ‘No one does anything.’ I suspect he learned it from his mother.” 

The three of them shared a laugh, but there was a heavy spot in Stiles’ chest at the memory of his mom. He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, looking down when Derek wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly, his hands dripping water down his back. “Time to get dressed, Big, er, Little Guy.”

Derek rolled his eyes and looked at the henley he was wearing and Stiles had a moment of panic when his dad walked back into the room with a pile of clothing. “It might be a bit out of style, but your mom kept most of your clothes from when you were a kid. No underwear though, sorry.”

Derek shrugged and reached for the clothes, grinning at the Yoda shirt that Stiles didn’t even remember owning, before heading up the stairs on his hands and feet. Stiles pulled his phone out to take a video but his father covered the lens and gave him ‘the look’. “Let him have some dignity.”

“He’s four-”

“He’s twenty-seven and trapped in the body of a four-year-old,” John reminded him. “It’s a lot and the last thing he’s probably going to want when he changes back is to be reminded of what happened.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to change him back?” Stiles asked, genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know, but either way, he’s Pack and has a place here.”

Stiles was still trying to come up with a response when Derek came back down the stairs dressed in jeans and the Yoda shirt, his feet still bare. “Good thing he’s used to running the woods barefoot,” Stiles muttered, heading upstairs to get changed himself.

They got to the Hale House after an argument regarding Derek and a carseat. While they’d been arguing, Derek had started walking and his father decided that it was safer in the car than to let him roam around that size. He drew the line at Derek sitting in the front seat and Stiles had a strange sense of deja vu as Derek glared at him from behind the metal grate between the front and back seats.

Stiles helped Derek out of the car. “So, this is where I found your stuff the next morning,” he explained. “I put it inside when I found it.” 

Derek nodded and looked around, his nostrils flaring before taking Stiles’ hand and leading him into the woods along a trail that they used for hiking sometimes. John followed at a slower pace, his hand on the butt of his gun. Stiles didn’t feel anything weird in the air around them but Derek’s hand tightened on his when they reached a clearing and found a woman lounging against one of the trees with a grin on her face.

Derek growled when she smiled at him and the wind shifted sending a chill through Stiles that had nothing to do with the air around them. “Witch,” he greeted with venom in his voice.

“Not quite,” she said, pushing off the tree and approaching. She squatted down in front of Derek, her smile turning into something softer and the feeling in the air changed. “How are you doing?” she asked, voice soft and Derek growled again.

“Not what I wanted,” he said.

“It’s what you asked for,” she told him, although she actually sounded regretful. 

“Wait, you asked to be turned into a child?” Stiles demanded.

“No!” Derek shouted. He slammed his hands onto his legs. “Not want be small! Want happy!”

John let out a quiet gasp while Stiles’ confusion grew. “You aren’t happy?” he asked and got a pretty epic four-year-old bitch face in response.

“I thought things were getting better. We were having pack nights. You got that job at the bookstore that you seemed to really like. I thought you were happy.”

“Big house. Only me,” Derek said. “Everyone come for pack night. Everyone leave. Scott’s a jerk.”

Stiles let the words settle into his brain. The night Derek had disappeared, Scott had made an offhand comment about how it was a good thing Derek had given up his Alpha powers since no one wanted to be around him. He’d been in a pissy mood all week because Stiles had skipped out on plans with Scott when Derek needed help with the new dishwasher at the house and took it out in the worst ways. 

“You were going to leave before the rest of us could,” Stiles said.

“No one wanted me around,” he mumbled. He dug his toes into the grass but he still hadn’t let go of Stiles’ hand. “No one ever wanted me around.”

“You told her you wanted to be the Derek people wanted to have around,” Stiles guessed and Derek nodded, the tips of his ears turning pink. He looked over the woman again, thinking about her response to being called a witch and watched as the air around her shimmered. “You made a wish to a fairy!” After all the years and warnings that Derek himself had given about interacting with the fae, he went and did it. Stiles' heart broke at just how desperate Derek had to have been feeling.

“I can honestly say, I didn’t expect this,” the witch said. “I thought he’d get like a personality overhaul or something but he turned into this.” 

“And you just let him wander off? A four-year-old?” John spoke up. 

“Let him? The little brat bit me and took off running. I couldn’t catch him if I tried. It’s a good thing he only has human teeth right now,” she responded, sounding offended.

“Not brat,” Derek muttered.

“No, you’re not,” he told him before turning to her. “Change him back.” 

“I can’t. Only he can,” she told him. “I really am sorry.” She leaned forward and kissed Derek’s cheek before disappearing in a cloud of sparkles.

Derek looked up at Stiles with tears in his eyes. “Sorry,” he said and started crying in earnest. 

Scooping him into his arms, Stiles pressed a kiss to the top of his head while looking at his father with wide eyes. John moved closer to pull both of them into a hug. “Well, boys, what are we going to do?”

The first thing they did was take Derek shopping for a pair of shoes and some more clothes. Stiles really hoped Derek would turn back sooner rather than later, but practicality won out over hope. When they were done shopping, Derek fell asleep in the car seat they had picked up and had almost been destroyed before Derek gave up and climbed in and buckled up. Stiles carried him up to his room and tucked him into bed, not even hesitating to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“As sweet as a child you are, I wish you knew just how much I like spending time with the adult you,” he whispered as he left the room.

He found his dad in the kitchen dressed for work with a bottle of water and a serious expression on his face. Getting a soda out of the fridge, he sat down across from him. “What’s on your mind, pops?”

“You’re twenty-two with a college degree and a good job,” his father started.

Stiles nodded. He’d gotten a good job with a computer firm and was able to telecommute from wherever that had good wifi, so he’d chosen to move back home to Beacon Hills because he’d missed his dad and the pack. He’d missed Derek.

“And you still live at home with your father.”

“You want me to move out?” Stiles was shocked. It had been the two of them for so long and being away at college had been hard enough but he’d always known he’d move back home eventually.

“Well, it’s either you move into the Hale House or Derek moves in with us because that young man cannot live alone anymore.” He pulled out a file that was on the table. “There used to be nineteen people living in the Hale House when Derek was young. Wolves are pack animals. You’ve told me stories of Omegas and we cannot let Derek become one. Besides, you think I don’t know how you feel about him? How he feels about you?”

Stiles spluttered. “I’m not going to deny my feelings because...well, just because. But Derek having feelings for me. Not in a million years.” 

“Stiles, he walked seven miles on four-year-old legs to find you because you smelled like pack. Taking the most obvious route from where we found the fairy to here, he passed Scott, Erica and Boyd’s houses but didn’t stop there. He even passed the vet clinic where Scott works but he kept going until he reached you.” He reached out and put a hand over Stiles’. “I think that says alot about how he feels about you.” He patted his hand one more time before standing from the table and leaving out the front door.

Stiles stared at the file in front of him, the photos of Derek’s family before the fire. Photos of the carefree Derek he had never known but saw glimpses of from time to time. He thought about the times he’d stayed after pack nights helping clean up and talking with Derek, the days they hung out in the library at the Hale House researching. His mind filled with the shuttered looks he glimpsed on Derek’s face as he closed the door behind Stiles after saying goodbye.

Looking up at the ceiling and thinking about what his father had said, Stiles came to a decision and he headed to the stairs to begin packing. He had a foot on the bottom step when he heard a terrified scream coming from his bedroom. Taking the stairs two at a time he skidded to a stop in the doorway of his room to find Derek sitting up in bed with tears streaming down his face and the stuffed wolf shoved against his face.

When Stiles crossed the room and pulled him into his lap, Derek’s entire body was trembling. “Bad dream, Little Dude?” Derek nodded. “What was it about?”

“Fire,” he muttered. “You.”

“Me in the fire?” he asked and Derek nodded again. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere...well…” He felt Derek’s grip on him tighten and didn’t need werewolf senses to know his heart rate ratcheted up to dangerous levels. “What would you think about me moving into the house with you?”

Derek’s eyes widened when he looked up. “Why?”

“Because I’m a twenty-two-year-old living with my father,” Stiles said and Derek rolled his eyes. “And I like spending time with you.”

Derek snorted and started climbing off Stiles’ lap. “No feel sorry for me.”

Stiles refused to let go. “The last thing I feel for you is sorry. I want to live with you. I  _ like _ being around you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t stay and help clean up. I also wouldn’t say stupid things to make you run out and make wishes with fairies instead of saying that I didn’t want you to go.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Stiles said. “Pinky promise.” He held his hand out, pinky extended laughing when Derek growled and tackled him into the bed, he might be small but he was still werewolf strong.

“Luff you, Stiles,” Derek said when they’d stopped wrestling and they both froze and he wasn’t sure which of them were more surprised by the words and the earnestness behind them.

“Love you, too, Derek,” he responded, pulling him into a hug.

Stiles moved in the following weekend and Derek was still small. They’d managed to get a friend of Deaton’s to write a doctor’s note to get him out of work so he wouldn’t lose his job but they had to do something to get him back to normal because the doctor’s excuse wouldn’t last forever. 

They decided to try and get things as back to normal as they could, despite Derek’s predicament. The next full moon, they had a pack night and ran around in the woods before heading back to the house. As they lounged on the furniture, Derek asleep on Stiles’ chest, the rest of the pack started talking.

“I miss his glowering,” Erica said, running a hand over Derek’s hair. She was pretty much the only person other than John and Stiles that Derek would let near him, although he liked to follow Boyd around as well.

“I miss talking about books with him,” Isaac added. “I know he’s still reading them, which a four-year-old reading Stephen King is freaky, but he can’t talk about them beyond ‘scary’ and ‘bad’.”

“I miss working out,” Boyd kicked in. The two of them went for walks in the woods but Stiles knew they used to spend hours at the gym in the basement and that was too difficult for Derek in his size.

“I actually miss having actual arguments with him,” Scott said, his voice quiet. “I think having him call me an idiot was helpful. ‘Jerk’ doesn’t have the same punch.”

Stiles listened to them all continue to talk, sharing stories about Derek and the things they missed. Everyone had something to share and Stiles knew Derek could hear him when he felt his eyelashes brushing against his neck and the dampness of tears against his skin.

The pack left early in the morning, leaving Stiles and Derek alone. Derek headed up to bed, quieter than normal and Stiles set up his computer at the table to get some work done. He kept one ear on Derek but once he heard the bed creak, he figured he was getting some more sleep. Before he had a chance to fall asleep, Stiles started talking, knowing Derek could hear him.

“I miss sitting across the table from you and arguing about how much sugar you put in your coffee. I miss watching  _ Star Wars _ with you and actually being able to talk about it together. I miss the way your face twists when you’re trying so hard not to laugh at something I’ve said. Most of all, I miss how I feel when I’m around you. You make me feel like a better person, like I can do anything.” He grew quiet and heard movement above him. “Even if you never go back to normal, I’ll be here for you but I kind of really want to kiss adult Derek.”

There was no answer, but Stiles hadn’t expected there to be. He returned his attention to the computer and got to work. 

“Stiles!”

Stiles jerked upright from where he’d fallen asleep over his laptop. His back was twinging and he groaned as he looked at the clock. It was nearly five o’clock at night and the last time he’d actually noticed the time had been noon when he’d stopped working for a sandwich. He’d called for Derek to eat something, but hadn’t gotten a response so he’d left him to sleep some more. Looking around, he tried to figure out what had woken him when he heard it again.

“Stiles!” Derek bellowed and then there was a loud thud from the bedroom followed by a lot of cursing.

Jumping to his feet, he raced up the stairs and skidded into Derek’s door before twisting the knob and pushing it open to find Derek’s blankets on the ground next to the bed moving around and more noises coming from beneath them. Moving carefully, Stiles reached out to pull the blanket back to reveal messy black hair, luminescent green eyes, and perfect stubble above the tattered remains of a Yoda shirt and glorious pecs. 

He let out a sob as he took in adult Derek whose eyes were wet as well as his lips twisted into a smirk, bunny teeth on display. “Peek-a-boo,” he said before pulling Stiles down into the blankets and a long-overdue very adult kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm 'josjournal' over there!


End file.
